Undercovers
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: It had been an easy decision to join up with the financial crimes division, investigating money laundering and the like. But, she was meant to be kept tucked behind a desk, not trying to infiltrate a notorious gang to help them launder their money. Hermione goes undercover in Fenrir Greyback's gang to catch him doing something illegal, not to catch feelings. First half of two-shot.


A/N: Oh hey everyone - not sure if you know this, but Fenrir x Hermione is one of my favorite pairing and I like to celebrate every February with Fenrir February. This week, I am posting a couple of one shots to celebrate. Here is the first one - it's a modern, non-magical AU where Hermione goes undercover and Fenrir is in a gang. It already has a sequel that will be posted later this week. Honestly, I enjoyed the theme of this one so much that it could be expanded into a 20-30 chapter story if there was enough interest. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of this and be on the lookout for it's sequel - Informants - on Friday!

* * *

Hermione's fingers were shaking while she zipped up the black leather jacket that Sirius had found for her. It was a bit oversized, but it he promised was right for the part. "Are you sure it has to be me? Couldn't you ask Harry or Ron?" she asked the older man, looking at him with nervousness. "How does Remus do this every day?"

"'Fraid so, kitten," Sirius said, circling her to make sure that she looked the part and not like a fed going undercover. Which is exactly what she was.

When Hermione had joined the authorities, she had never expected to do any field work. After all, it wasn't as if she was an _agent_. Not a real one anyway. But, Harry and Ron had joined the program to become field agents, and she hadn't wanted to be left behind by her two best friends since secondary school, and so she'd joined up. With her background in accounting and maths, it had been an easy decision to join up with the financial crimes division, investigating money laundering and the like.

But, she was meant to be kept tucked behind a _desk_, not trying to infiltrate a notorious gang to help them launder their money.

"Even if we could get one of them in there, they wouldn't be able to do anything with the books," Remus explained with a frown. "We really need your expertise, Hermione."

Remus _would_ know what they needed. He'd been embedded with Fenrir Greyback's gang for nearly a year now and it was his plan to bring the whole thing tumbling down to the ground. Remus was trusted by Greyback at this point, but he had no reason to deal with their books at all. Though he did know that Greyback had been expanding territory for months, having linked up with a higher level dealer called Dolohov a while back. The gang was more profitable than ever, and he'd become overwhelmed with the amount of dirty money that they now had in their hands - money that they would need to launder if they ever had any hope of using it. When Greyback had complained about this fact, Remus had jumped to offer to find them an _accountant_.

That's where Hermione came in.

The hope was by gaining Greyback's trust, she could get a better understanding of how their operation was running, and how they integrating with Dolohov and his higher up, and the drug cartel that was behind the whole thing, run by a man only known as Lord Voldemort. Harry and Ron were _bitterly_ disappointed that she was getting her first undercover detail before they were. "If I have my way, it will be my last," she'd snapped at them, annoyed that they couldn't see how _scared_ she was by the prospect.

Fenrir Greyback was not a nice man. This was a person who wouldn't think twice about killing her if he knew the truth of the matter. She was incredibly worried about being found out. When people thought about Hermione Granger, they thought of her as a rule follower, a goody two-shoes. No one would ever mistake her for someone who would join up with a _gang_.

"Hey, you'll do just fine, Hermione," Remus said, sensing her nerves. "Don't worry, I've put in a good word for you, and I'll be with you. Just do exactly what Greyback says and we won't have any problems, okay?" He pressed his hands to her shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"What if he asks me to _kill_ someone?" she snarked back at her mentor.

Remus gave her a half smile. "Don't worry, he wouldn't expect that out of you," he promised. "But, don't forget, he isn't a nice man...and he can be a bit crude, so just...never forget who you are dealing with. He can be dangerous, but I will be with you. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." He said it so earnestly, that Hermione was finding it quite easy to believe. It _almost_ assuaged her fears...almost.

"After today, you won't be able to come into the bureau," Sirius explained. "I'll come 'round to your's to pick up your reports, and if you need anything, you can always signal for me. You remember where the dead drop is?"

Nodding, Hermione tried to calm her increasingly frayed nerves. "Alright, let's go," she said to Remus, knowing that she was never going to feel more ready than she was. "Before I change my mind."

...

The ride over to Greyback's headquarters was completed in silence. Remus must have known how pointless chitchat would do little to sooth her nerves, but by the time she stepped out of his old car, she was shaking with fear and she wished she would have had something to preoccupy her thoughts with.

She hid behind Remus as she walked into the building, a nondescript warehouse, but not one that seems rundown. Remus walked in with a swagger she didn't know he possessed and headed off in the direction of Greyback's office. Knocking on the door, he entered after hearing a gruff voice call for them to come in.

Fenrir Greyback doesn't look _anything_ like what she expected. He's a beast of a man, much taller than Remus who is already quite tall, and _strong_ looking. He engaged Remus in a complicated handshake, and Hermione tried not to stare too much at the curve of his jaw, masculine and strong. He wore an easy smile and when his dark blue eyes settled on her form, they lit up with mischief.

Smirking at her, he settled back into his chair before motioning for Remus to do the same. She was not offered a seat at the table, something that rankled her more than she'd care to admit. "When you told me you'd find me someone to help with my little problem, you didn't tell me it would be a little girl," he taunted.

Remus shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione's young, but she's still the best at what she does," he explained. "I met her when I was trying to deal with some cash tips. She's very...creative."

"Look at her," Fenrir said with amusement clear in his voice. "She looks like a little kitten, all angry and ready to sink her claws into me."

"_She_ would appreciate it if you didn't talk about her like she wasn't standing right here," Hermione sniped at him, raising her jaw in defiance at his attitude.

The smirk dropped from his face. "You look ridiculous in that leather jacket," he said, his voice dangerous and low. "Did you think you'd score points with me if you came here in it?"

"Just wanted to look the part," Hermione countered with a sneer on her face. "Didn't realize that a _drug dealer _expected me to show up in a blazer and heels."

For a moment, he just stared at her with a dark look in his eyes, his hands resting on the table in front of him. She stared down at those large hands, one or two tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of his cuffed button-down shirt, and wondered if she had already made a terrible miscalculation. It wouldn't be much bother at all for him to strangle the life right out of her with those, she thought. Then, he threw his head back and laughed.

Suddenly, it became very clear to Hermione that he very much enjoyed riling her up.

"I like how fierce you are," he said, still chuckling heartily. Remus was glaring at her from his spot opposite of Fenrir, trying to remind her with his eyes that she'd promised to do whatever it was that Fenrir said to her. "But, maybe I ought to check you for a wire, _just_ to be safe. Jacket off," he demanded, suddenly sounding more serious.

Hermione shrugged out of her leather jacket, tossing it to Remus, before turning to look back at Fenrir. He stood up from his spot behind the desk, immediately moving to invade her space. She swallowed thickly when she had to crane her neck just to maintain eye contact with the man. God, she'd known he was tall, but compared to her he seemed like a giant.

She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding when he pressed his large hands to the curve of her hips, giving her the most lascivious grin she'd ever seen. When his fingers pulled up the simple white cotton of her t-shirt, her heart stuttered at the first touch of his calloused hands to her bare skin, goose-flesh springing up on the parts of her that were exposed. Fenrir traced every dip and curve of her body, maintaining eye contact with her all the while. She thought she might die when he pressed his hands up underneath the cups of her bra to cup her breasts, her traitorous nipples turning to hard points at the feeling of being manhandled by him.

Blushing furiously, she broke eye contact, not trusting herself not to moan if she kept eye contact with his hungry blues for another moment longer. She leveled a glare at Remus, lips pulling back to bare clenched teeth, trying to telegraph her fury to him. At least he had the manners to look embarrassed.

Fenrir dropped to his knees in front of her, and Hermione was aghast to realize just how much she enjoyed the visual. But, she was quickly distracted when his hands began patting up one leg, then down the other, lingering to touch her center for only the briefest of - _god, why did she wish he'd touched her there firmer? -_ moments. His fingers slipped down each of the sides of her boots, perfunctory. Then, his hands slid up the back of her thighs, stopping to cup her arse, giving it a suggestive squeeze.

He gave her another one of those feral grins, showing off white teeth. "You didn't tell me that she was such a juicy little Peach, Remus," he said, knowing how much it bothered her to be ignored, but never lifting his eyes from her face, drinking in her reaction.

Hermione felt her face burn red and her nostrils flare, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of responding to his jibes this time.

Remus coughed. "Oh, I suppose she's not really my...type," he said weakly, though he kept his eyes firmly on the table in front of him.

Fenrir laughed again, low and throaty, before standing to his full height once again. He smirked at the other man. "You are lying to yourself, Remus," he countered, not bothering to hide the way his eyes raked up her form. Once he'd had his fill, Fenrir returned to his spot behind the desk.

"Now that _that_ is finished," Hermione said primly. "Can we please get down to business?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Internally, she was grateful that Remus had nixed Sirius's plan to have her wear a wire. He had felt _every_ inch of her body and there was no way that he would have missed it.

"If you insist on ruining my fun," Fenrir said finally. "I assume that Remus has filled you in on our needs. We need someone to clean our money," he told her, showing her that he was capable of being serious when the time called for it. He described in detail their current cash flow and Hermione forced herself not to bat an eyelash at the eye watering sum that she was meant to be moving around. Remus hadn't ever told her that scale of this little operation. Still, she was good at what she did and she knew that she'd be able to accomplish it with ease. "So, do you think you'll be able to handle it?"

Pressing her hands on the table, she leaned forward, unable to stop her own smirk. "I think you will find that I am more than capable, Mr. Greyback," she breathed out. "Now, let's talk real estate."

She could see a corner of his mouth turning up into a grin at her forwardness. He leaned back into his chair, locking his fingers behind his head. "Call me Fenrir, Peach," he insisted. "I think that I am going to look forward to working with you."

...

Hermione watched the lone bag in the dryer spinning around and around again, trying desperately to ignore the large man who was staring at her from across the room. It was no secret that he enjoyed staring at her arse, but that didn't mean that she had to like it.

Somehow, she'd managed to grow more comfortable around the dangerous man, easing into a working relationship with only a bit of friction. He seemed ready and eager to take on the advice that she had to give him, including making purchases of properties that primarily used cash transactions. She'd suggested a barber or a restaurant, but he'd quickly offered to find a strip club to invest in. The thought had her scoffing, but she gave in, knowing that it would be a good way to disguise their profits. He also revealed that he already owned a mechanics shop that they could funnel funds through, too.

But, there was no denying that he took a particular interest in what she did, despite her protests that she didn't need him to babysit her. Fenrir breathing down her neck made her stomach do odd sorts of little flip flops.

Looking at him over her shoulder, she watched as he took a drag off of his spliff. "You know, you really don't need to stay here," she said, trying not to focus too much on how rugged he looked with just a bit of scruff on his face. "I can handle myself just fine on my own."

"This is a dangerous part of town, Peach," he said with a grin, knowing how much she detested his little nickname for her. "And besides, I wanted to see why you needed a dryer."

She cross her arms over her chest and turned to face him. Leaning back against the small appliance, she let her eyes drink in his form - long legs spread out in front of him, a glass of dark colored alcohol in one hand and cigarette held between thumb and forefinger of the other. "Well, it certainly wasn't for a home ec project," she snarked.

He laughed at her, then. "You'd be a shit house wife, I take it," he bantered back. "So, what does it do?"

Hermione wasn't sure if he meant that as an insult, but she didn't take it as one. "Well, they don't call it money laundering for nothing," she said with a shrug, before picking up a stack of brand new bills still in their currency strap. "Take this - if you tried to turn this into the bank, it might set off alarm bells. Does this look like something that a stripper would turn in at the end of the night? Or a mechanic for that matter?" she asked, happy to share with him the depths of her knowledge.

"So you are just dirtying it up a bit?" he asked, before taking another drag.

"Exactly," Hermione nodded, unsurprised that he was picking up quickly. Fenrir was no idiot, after all. "Making it look used, warn in. But as you can see, it's a bit of a slow process, so you don't need to stick around. Might be here a while," she said, before being overtaken by a yawn. Stretching her arms, her shirt slipped up to show off a sliver of pale skin at her waist.

Biting his lower lip, he made no secret that he enjoyed the view. "You look lonely, standing over there all by yourself," he cooed at her, a predator trying to coax its prey into its grasp. "Why don't you come over here?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, enjoying the obvious way that he wanted her. "But there's nowhere for me to sit," she said, feeling silly.

He gave her another one of those feral grins, before patting one of his strong looking legs. "There's a spot for you right here, Peach."

She stared down at his lap, knowing that there was no way that she would actually take him up on the suggestion, even though there was a traitorous little part of her that was begging her to do it. Fenrir was not her usual type of man, but there was something so irresistible about him, completely in control and willing to do whatever it took to make sure he got his way.

Hermione was crossing the room before she even realized it. Stopping in front of the man, she stared down at him, wondering what the hell she was trying to do. Before she could think on it too long, Fenrir was reaching out and pulling her down to settle into his lap. "There, that's better, isn't it?" he asked, obviously very pleased with himself.

Suddenly, she was struck by how awful she felt that she was setting this man up to be arrested. How could she just sit here and flirt with him shamelessly like she was, knowing the fate that she would be leaving him to? Clearing her throat, Hermione locked eyes with the formidable man. "You know, Fenrir, you should really be keeping a separate set of books...one for your legitimate business and then the other, real books," she said, glad that she _wasn't_ wearing a wire, so that no one would hear her advice. Remus would yank her off of the case quicker than she could blink. "Keep the real books somewhere they could be destroyed easily if something were to-"

Fenrir cut off her advise with a searing kiss, claiming her with lips, tongue and teeth. His hand tangled in her hair, holding her in just the right way, pressing her against him. Hermione was helpless to do anything but moan into him, hands pressed against his chest tightening in the crisp cotton of his button down shirt, but not pushing him away. His tongue slid against hers in a pleasurable tangle, sending desire racing through all of her nerves. He nipped at her lower lip, sucking it between his own lips, laving it with his tongue.

Hermione had never been kissed this way, letting him do whatever he wanted with her. She never knew how much she wanted someone to take control of the situation, fingers tangled in her hair, pulling just firm enough to keep her where he wanted her. His other hand was splayed at her waist, large fingers squeezing her jean-clad arse every now and again.

She wasn't sure how long he had been kissing her, but she was dazed when he finally pulled away. Stunned, she opened her eyes, his smirking visage quickly coming into focus. Perhaps reading her disappointment, he gave her a dangerous look, one having her legs pressing together wanting some friction. "There's no need to rush things, Peach," he teased, giving her arse another squeeze.

Blushing heavily, Hermione stood up quickly on wobbly legs. The sensations of the room came rushing back to her, and she realized that the dryer had stopped running at some point. Clearing her throat, she avoided making eye contact with the man. "I should be going," she said awkwardly, pushing her hair over her shoulder.

Why did a criminal like Fenrir have to be the one to make her feel this way?

...

The longer that Hermione worked with Fenrir, the harder it was for her to continue on with the charade. She still gave her reports to Sirius when he could find the time to slip into her apartment at odd hours, but she'd grown reticent and she felt guilty with every piece of information she gave up.

Despite her best efforts, she _really_ liked Fenrir. He was funny and cheeky and he always found a way to make her laugh. He was shrewd and smart - much smarter than she'd given him credit for initially. All it had taken was a few suggestions to get him moving the right direction, but he'd been an apt student. He could take his illegal business far, if only he wasn't the target of a federal investigation, one he was completely unaware of.

There was no mistaking that he had a dangerous side, too. It felt shameful to admit it, but she sort of liked his dominating personality and the way that he always got things done. He handled everything and made sure business was running to his satisfaction. Sometimes he got a little bit too dangerous, though, like when he beat a man bloody for stealing just a little bit of money. Hermione thought the man should be punished but...it was another thing to actually _watch_ it happen.

Remus must have been aware of her growing attraction for the other man because he was suddenly around _all the time_. Previous evenings spent joking with Fenrir while reviewing the books together were invaded by the undercover officer, his watchful green eyes making sure that a respectful distance was kept between the two of them. Hermione was mortified, because if he knew, that meant Remus undoubtedly was aware of her little crush. God, she could only imagine what would happen if it got back to Harry and Ron.

Still, an even worse idea popped into her head - what if he was just worried that she was going to tell the truth to Fenrir?

Because she'd had such a watchful babysitter, Hermione was surprised when Fenrir asked her to stay behind one evening and Remus was nowhere to be seen. Fenrir had a large quantity of dollar bills that had to be counted before they could be packaged for a drop at a bank. Setting up in his little office, Hermione got started, happy to be alone with the large man for a change. Nothing had changed in the banter between them, and it was just like old times, her laughing along with all his flirty small talk.

Biting her lip, she finally found the courage to ask the question that was on her mind. "Where is Remus tonight?" she asked, her cheeks certainly a bright pink, while she kept her eyes firmly at the dollars in her hands.

"I sent him off on a job, it will take him all night," Fenrir's rumbling voice answered. He leaned back in his chair, giving her a leer that had her flushed with pleasure. "I hope you don't mind, I wanted to get you alone, Peach."

"I don't mind," Hermione squeaked in response, surprised that it was the truth. How much things had changed from their first meeting.

"Good," Fenrir answered, rewarding her with one of those feral smiles he seemed to favor whenever she was around. "Remus is a terrible cock block."

Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the statement, certain that she must be reading more into it than he truly meant. Was it possible that Fenrir wanted _her_? "Oh, surely you don't mean it that way," she said, trying to give him an out, but her voice coming out like a desperate whine.

"Why don't you come over here, and let me show you _exactly_ how I mean it," he challenged her.

And Hermione took the bait. Standing, she set down the stack of bills and made her way around the desk until she was standing between Fenrir's spread thighs. She felt powerful and sexy when she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat, clearly taken aback by her bold move. Licking her lower lip in nervousness, she was thrilled to see his blue eye glued to her lips. "Are you all bark and no bite?" she asked, coquettishly, cocking her head to one side, hoping to entice him into further action.

He was standing before she knew it, drawing a gasp out of her throat. Walking her back, she gasped when her thighs hit the wood of his desk. Dipping his head, he kissed her urgently, teeth catching her lower lip and giving her a playful nip, before using his tongue to soothe the hurt. His hands on her waist easily lifted her to sit on the edge of the desk, one knee pressing forward to spread her legs so that he could stand between her.

Fenrir broke the kiss, leaving her gasping for air, before winding his fingers into her hair. Pulling her head back, Hermione felt terribly exposed when he let his fingers trail down her neck and into the v-neck of her shirt, barely skimming the top of her breasts, thrown off kilter by the balance of hard and soft with him. His mouth was on the skin of her neck, teeth scraping against her pulse point, sucking firmly, sure to leave red love bites behind if he wasn't careful.

He ground himself against her center, laughing at the shocked gasp that left her lips. He broke away from her skin. "I want you _so badly_, Hermione," he said, looking at her with dangerous eyes, pupils blown wide in lust. "But I know the truth about you."

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat, heart beating out of control when she wondered what he meant. Was it possible that he had figured out the real reason that she was working with them? Did he know that she was a fed? "What do you mean, the truth?" she asked, hating the quiver she could hear in her voice.

Fenrir used his hand to grab her jaw so that she couldn't look away from him. "You are so young, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. You are in over your head," he explained smoothly. "I don't know how you got mixed up with Remus _or_ me, but you shouldn't be involved with either of us. You are too good for this lifestyle, Peach."

It was comforting to know that he was concerned about her, thought she was too good for him, it seemed. "I don't care," she said, feeling extraordinarily bold in the moment. Wrapping a leg around him, she pulled him even closer. "I want _you_," she admitted to him, to herself.

"Careful," he said, pushing her down until her back was pressed against the desk, with him looming over her and pinning her in place. "You are messing with fire," Fenrir warned.

Hermione tittered as some of the neatly counted and packaged money was pushed off the back of the desk. SHe chuckled, thinking of how much it felt like she was in a movie at that moment, only to be brought back to the present when Fenrir pressed himself against her harder. "Please don't make me wait any longer," she begged, afraid she might lose her nerve if she waited another minute longer.

Fenrir was only too happy to oblige, lips meeting hers, kissing her so hard that all other thoughts quickly flew out of her head. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than him. His hands were between their bodies then, barely stopping to unzip her jeans before he was tugging them down her legs. Hermione tried to assist him with his way pants, but he just batted away her hands before handling it far more efficiently than she could have hoped to.

He stared down at her knicker-clad core almost reverently, before allowing greedy fingers to slide the fabric away from her slit, hissing at her wetness. "Fuck..." he said, nearly mesmerized by the feel of her, before tugging the fabric away.

Kissing her again, Hermione reveled in the way that his tongue felt sliding against her own, making her toes curl in need. She let her own hands twist in his dark hair, holding him to her, not wanting to let him go. She moaned in relief when she finally felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her, surging forward until he was completely seated inside her, stretching her. After a few beats of adjustment, he was moving again, pulling out only to snap forward again. Hermione bit her lip at each stroke wondering if she was damned for the way that he was making her feel. Fenrir was not a nice man, but he was powerful and driven and god did she love it when he drove into her.

One large hand slipped up under her shirt, giving her breast a squeeze even as he kept up his persistent pace. Hermione tugged her own shirt up over her head, wanting him to be able to see what he was working with. Fenrir groaned, his eyes drinking in every inch of her skin, before grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her into a sitting position. He kept his hands on her bare back, sliding along sweat slicked skin, all while his hips kept snapping forward, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, angled just so she would be seeing stars in no time.

Fisting her hands in the material of his button down, she wished she had the guts to tear it off him. Instead, she contented herself with rocking her own hips, meeting his thrusts. Hermione was too overwhelmed by the sensation of him - his spicy scent, the way the muscles in his arms bunched, the scratch of his beard on her skin - that she couldn't even feel embarrassed at the noises she was making.

Eyes pressed shut tightly, she could feel herself getting closer as he hit that one particular _spot_ again and again and again and again... and then she was snapping, her body gone rigid in the moment, while every nerve in her body seemed to come alive, clenched in pleasure. Wave after wave of feeling washed over her as he continued to chase his own peak. Just when she thought that it was going to be too much, that she couldn't handle it any longer, his movements became jerky and shallow and then he was following her, his face pressed into the crook of her neck, hot breath sending shivers up her spine.

Eventually, when they had both cooled and separated, Fenrir couldn't keep his eyes off of her as she dressed herself. "Maybe you know what you are into after all," he said with a smirk. "You sure gave as good as you got. I hope you don't regret anything."

Blushing, Hermione shook her head. No, she didn't regret anything now, not when she was still basking in the afterglow. The regret would come later, when she climbed into her bed alone, and wondered if she'd just royally messed up the case. She had to face the facts, though. Her feelings for this gangster...this man that her agency was _investigating_...had grown wildly out of control. She could only imagine what Fenrir would think of her if he knew the truth.

"Nothing," she said, looking around his office. "Except that we are going to have to recount all these bills," she said with a confidence she didn't naturally possess. Bending over, she picked up a handful of 100 notes.

When she stood up, Fenrir was wrapping his arms around her middle, pulling her back to his chest. He leaned down and kissed the skin behind her ear. "I think you were well worth it, Peach."

...

It was not long after that day that the house of cards Hermione had helped to build came tumbling down around her. She wasn't even aware that the rest of her team had planned to move in that day, but move in they had. They kicked down doors, guns drawn and shouting at everyone to get down one afternoon while Hermione was watching a bag of money go through the dryer, same as always.

Ron grinned at her when he moved past her, ready to arrest anyone that he came across, glad to finally see some action for a change now that he was out of field training. Hermione was disappointed when she realized this meant a return to her little desk job, reviewing the bank accounts of other people, rather than getting money to move around. She had been _good_ at money laundering, she thought, a hint of pride bubbling up inside of her.

But that little spark was doused out as soon as she saw them hauling Fenrir out, arms secured behind his back, while he kick and fought against the three men it took to restrain him. He had pure murder in his eyes when he caught sight of Remus standing in the doorway, not wearing his signature leather jacket, but one of those hideous polyester zip ups identifying him as law enforcement.

Fenrir's eyes searched the room for her and as soon as they made contact, Hermione knew in her heart that he knew. She was surprised by how guilty she truly felt for _betraying _Fenrir. She blinked slowly, wishing she could talk to him, to tell him how she really felt, but she would never get the change. Swallowing thickly, she reminded herself that she tried to warn him.

Once the warehouse was cleared, Hermione marched up to Sirius and Remus, shoving the latter on the shoulder. "What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me you were going to come bursting in like that?" she demanded.

"We wanted to leave you with some clout, so they wouldn't suspect you, kitten," Sirius said, concerned. "But don't worry, you won't have to do this sort of field work again, I promise. It's back to the office with you," he teased.

"Yeah..." Hermione said, trailing off. "Can't wait." She turned to leave, unsure of how to behave around them now, after everything that had happened. Did they know the truth about her?

"Hermione?" Remus asked, looking over her face for any sign of what she was feeling. He was about to say something, but thought better of it and changed his mind. "I was just...we are going for drinks, afterwards. To celebrate. You'll come with, won't you?"

She bit her lip, thinking it over for a minute, before deciding that it would be best to keep herself occupied and reconnect with all of her friends after being undercover for so long. "Of course," she answered, cursing herself for not sounding as excited as she should.

It would keep her from wondering what Fenrir Greyback thought of her now that he really knew the truth.


End file.
